Asthenia
by Annaleise Marie
Summary: Edward may have just met the girl of his dreams, but there's something strange about Bella Swan. Maybe it's the fact that she keeps turning up everywhere... dead. AU/AH canon pairings. Collaboration with Nachos4Children.
1. The Amazing Collapsing Girl

**Asthenia  
**by Annaleise Marie

---

AN: I own a crappy six-year-old Toshiba Satellite that enjoys crashing at inopportune times. I do not, however, own Twilight.

This story will be told in rotating POVs. I know this annoys some people, and the first chapter is really bad for it. But it will calm down after this, to only one POV per chapter (it'll switch between Bella and Edward for the rest) so please bear with me for this one. :D

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(BPOV)

"Damned stupid toaster," I muttered, shaking the offending appliance and glaring into the slots. "Give me my waffle!" I was late to class already. No class should ever start at seven in the morning. And on top of that, my toaster would not just give me my Eggo and let me go. "L'eggo my Eggo!"

I was taken by surprise when I heard laughter and spun around quickly, my heart thudding. Jessica, my roommate, was leaning against the door frame of the kitchen, her stupid, perfect, botoxed lips pulled into a smirk.

I disliked Jessica, but well, I had kind of put off finding a place to live until the last minute, so it was between her and this guy named Mike Newton whose flier read "Only hot girls need apply."

Right, I'm so sure.

As it was, I had now been caught in my pyjamas, fighting with a toaster, quoting commercial lines, and scared out of my wits by Jessica.

I gripped the counter as my face flamed up and my eyes slid out of focus.

_No... Not this again..._

---

(EPOV)

Music Appreciation is the bane of my existence. First off, as a music major, I clearly already have an appreciation for music. I do not need a class to teach me how to do it. Second, it starts at seven in the morning. If I live to be one hundred and eight, I am fully confident that I will not once have had the urge to be up at seven in the morning.

As the professor droned on and on about Salieri, I let my eyes wander around the room. God, this place was packed with the textbook definition of 'band geeks'. Not one girl worth noticing. This was going to be a dull class.

No sooner had that thought crossed my mind than the door to the lecture hall swung open and a whirlwind of a girl stumbled in. And I do mean stumbled. From my seat in the first row, close to the door (all the better to escape with), I saw her shoe catch on the threshold and she lurched forward slightly, catching herself before the barrelled into the professor's podium. She straightened up, sweeping her long brown hair out of her face as a blush coloured her cheeks, her eyes downcast.

She muttered an apology to the professor and dashed to the closest seat as the lecture continued. Two seats down from me, she opened her book and bent over it, allowing her hair to fall in a curtain over her face.

Well, from the brief flash of her face I saw, she sure beat out the dogs in this class. In fact, she was quite pretty. Maybe this class wouldn't be too bad after all.

---

(BPOV)

Why was he looking at me? I mean, yeah, he saw me trip, but really, I wasn't that fascinating. I hadn't even fallen down! A stumble was worth a chuckle, maybe a joke, but really? Ten minutes of staring? Why won't he look away?

I tried to calm my nerves, to not let it bother me and fend off the rush of embarrassment. I couldn't let it happen here, of all places.

But despite that conviction, I felt it getting harder to focus, my head getting foggy.

Why won't he look away?

"What are you looking at, asshat?" I demanded, turning my head to hiss at him. He looked surprised and mildly embarrassed for a moment to be caught staring. Well... good. Now he can know how it feels.

Sadly, I wasn't going to get to see him experience it, as I felt the last bit of my energy drain away and I slumped forward on my desk.

---

(EPOV)

If I was taken by surprise by her sudden outburst, it was nothing compared to my surprise when she suddenly collapsed onto her desk, her head buried in her book. What was with this girl?

She wasn't moving at all. There wasn't even a rise of her back or shoulders to indicate she was still breathing. But she had to be, right? I reached out with my foot and nudged her leg. No response.

---

(BPOV)

Did he just kick me? What the fuck was his problem? The second I could move again, I was going to give him a good kick for doing this to me.

"Professor?" I heard him call out in a smooth, deep voice. "I think this girl just passed out or something."

_Well no shit_, I wanted to spit at him, but I couldn't make my voice work. I mean, he was wrong, but that is what it would look like to most people.

I heard the class go into an uproar and groaned internally. I hated when people managed to witness this. I had actually managed to avoid having it happen in public for about two years now, but something about that guy staring at me...

I felt a hand wrap around my wrist and fingers pressing into the pulse point there. _No... that won't work... _The hand moved and the fingers pressed to the side of my neck. _Please, don't let them think..._

"She doesn't have a pulse," I heard the professor gasp. _No, no, no..._

I had to calm down. I had to get out of this.

"Someone call 911!"

_No... I'm not dead!_

I tried to calm myself, to beat away the fear. _All you have to do is calm down, Bella, and this will be over._

The noises in the room all started to blend together in a cloud of panic as I retreated into my mind.

_Calm down_.

I concentrated on moving my hand, just a finger. I concentrated solely on that, instead of the voices, the cries of panic, the guy next to me, much closer now, talking on the phone to the emergency response operator.

I concentrated on pulling in oxygen, even if my chest wouldn't move. I concentrated on slow breaths. I needed to move. I needed to blink. I needed to speak. I needed to do _something_ to alert them that I was alive.

"I don't know, she just had a fit or something and then collapsed," the deep, snarky voice reported.

_A fit? I did not have a fit you snarky bastard!_

The room went quiet, save a few scattered gasps.

"Miss Swan?" the voice of the professor asked hesitantly.

Had I said that out loud?

---

(EPOV)

"I did not... have a fit... you snarky... bastard."

I spun around to look at the girl as the professor gasped out her name. There was a moments pause when we all waited for her to answer, and then her hands slowly moved to brace against the desk and push herself into a sitting position.

"What?" I asked, taken by surprise. Hadn't she been dead a second ago? She took a deep breath before opening her mouth to speak in that same halting tone.

"I said... I didn't have.. a fit... you snarky bastard," she ground out. She took another deep breath and closed her eyes.

I was speechless. This girl had just been dead, and now here she was, sitting up and calling me a bastard.

My kind of girl.

---

AN: I hope you enjoyed the first chapter! As a note, although I wrote the first two chapters, this story is a collaboration piece with **Nachos4Children**. Because she rocks my socks. :D

Feedback would be soooo very appreciated. :3


	2. Alice's Intuition to the Rescue!

AN: I was really pleased with the response to this chapter. Especially from Nachos4Children, who I have decided is my twific soulmate. In a non-creepy way. Mmyep. Anywho, onwards with the weirdness, yes?

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(EPOV)

Everyone was still gathered around the girl, concern or shock painting every single face. I myself was confused as hell. What was going on? Had she just been fucking with me? And why? And how the fuck had she stopped her pulse?

What happened next didn't help me understand the situation as the door to the hall flew open, slamming hard against the doorstop, and my little sister, Alice, came barrelling in, gasping for breath.

"Professor Emmerson," she panted, "I need to see Bella Swan. It's an emergency."

Bella Swan? I looked at the girl, who had turned her gaze to Alice. How the hell did they know each other? I had never even heard of her before. Alice saw my expression and threw me a pointed go-along-with-it-or-die look.

"Well, I think we're having a bit of an emergency here ourselves. I think Miss Swan should go to the hospital," Professor Emmerson said.

"Oh, well we were just heading there anyway," Alice bluffed. "That's why I was coming to get her."

"Has something happened?" Bella asked, looking panicked.

"It's Rosalie!" Alice announce dramatically, tears welling up in her eyes. The girl was good. "There's been an accident and we need to go now!"

"Rosalie?" Bella asked, looking at Alice as though she had three heads.

"Bella," I cut in. "Clearly you're still confused, let's just go, it'll all come back to you."

Professor Emmerson finally looked away from Alice and me to look at Bella and I shot her a pleading look. I had no idea what was going on but Alice... well, she usually knew things, somehow, and it was best to trust her.

"Uh... Okay," Bella said hesitantly, gathering her books and standing. Alice skipped over to her and took her by the hand, pulling her from the hall. I followed closely, waiting until I heard the latch of the door close behind us before looking to Alice for an explanation.

"She shouldn't be around a ton of people like that, it's just going to make it worse," Alice said, shrugging.

"But how did you even--"

"I was out in the courtyard by the window. I heard everyone freaking out," Alice shrugged again as we walked out of the building.

"And Rosalie?" I prompted.

"She's fine."

"What's going on?" a quiet voice asked and I twisted around, almost surprised to see Bella there. She had been so quiet.

"Well, I could ask you the same thing. You nearly died back there," I said, shaking my head.

"I wasn't dead. It's just... hard to find a pulse when that happens. They use this machine at the hospital for it..." she trailed off, blushing faintly. "And it's not my fault everyone freaked out. I wear an ID bracelet," she defended, pulling up the sleeve of her sweater to expose a silver chain with a small matching plaque.

"How very handy," I muttered.

"But... who are you guys? And why... just... why?" she asked. I furrowed my brow, trying to figure out what exactly she was asking. Alice, however, answerred first.

"I'm Alice Cullen," she said with a bright smile. "And this is my brother, Edward. As for the why, I think you'll need to elaborate a bit."

"Why... am I here, with you two?" she asked.

"Oh. Well, like I said, I heard what was going on from outside the hall and well..." Alice trailed off. She always had trouble phrasing this next part, as people tended to think she was a little... crazy.

"Alice has a very good intuition for what people need," I said carefully. "It's like she can see what will and won't work with the person and the situation, even with people she doesn't know."

"Right. And it seemed like you were stuck in there, and it just would've made things worse," Alice said with a smile. "Anyway, I need to get to my own class. I'll see you guys later," she chirped.

Before she left, she pulled me down to her height and moved her mouth close to my ear.

"Be nice to her, Edward," she whispered in her knowing voice. "I think you'll regret it if you're not."

And with that she was gone, zipping off in a cloud of energy, leaving Bella and I standing there alone.

"Alice seems nice," Bella said akwardly, not meeting my eyes. "A little crazy, but nice."

"Yeah, that would be Alice," I muttered.

Silence.

Awkward, suffocating, silence.

"So uh... do you need to go to the hospital or anything?" I asked. She shook her head.

"No, I just need to rest, you know," she said, still not meeting my eyes.

"Well..." I searched for words. I was trying to be nice, like Alice said, but I was having trouble finding things to be nice about. Maybe she had meant just don't be outright mean? "Do you live nearby? I could walk you home, make sure you don't like, collapse on the way."

Her eyes snapped up to mine and my heart thudded hard. She had beautiful brown eyes, the kind that could strike a man dumb with a single look.

"You don't think I'm weird or anything?" she asked, so quietly that I almost missed it.

Well, yeah, sweetcheeks, I think you're weird. You just died in class only to come back to life to call me a bastard.

"Weird isn't the right word for it," I said evenly. "Strange in an intriguing and mildly frightening kind of way, maybe." She bit her bottom lip, not meeting my gaze once more. I sighed. "So, can I walk you home or not?"

She nodded but didn't say anything as she started walking down the block. I jogged a bit to catch up with her, and easily matched my pace with hers.

"So are you a music major, too?" I asked, trying to strike up a conversation.

"Hmm?" she asked, looking distracted. "Oh, yeah. It's silly, but I want to play for the Trans-Siberian Orchestra. I'm not good enough, though, so I figured, you know... education..."

"Yeah... What do you play?"

"Violin, mostly. Although I can also play guitar and bass... I'm pretty good with string instruments," she answered, staring down at her feet as she walked instead of looking at me. "What about you?"

"Piano. I want to be a teacher."

"That's nice," she said and then grimaced for some reason. "Well," she muttered as we walked to the door of an apartment building, "this is me. Thanks for walking with me, sorry for all the trouble," she said in a rush before dashing inside.

Well. That was abrupt and unexpected.

And completely and totally fascinating. I glanced at the directory for the buzzer on the front door and found "Stanley, Swan - Apt. 207". I pulled a pen from my pocket and wrote it on my hand, feeling like a creepy stalker the whole time, and completely unsure of what made me do it.

---

AN: Yeah. Short chapter again. I'm known for it. Sigh. But hey, you get updates more often. /shrug

A note on Alice: I've always liked her, and her power intrigued me, so I wanted to kind of adapt it to my story. Soooo... she just got a really strong intuition. Lol.

Feedback is appreciated! :D


	3. Start at the Beginning

**Asthenia  
By Annaleise Marie & Nachos4Children**

**---**

**A/N: So here is the first chapter written by my love, Nachos4Children. I hope you like it!**

**By the way, we don't own Twilight or any of it's characters, but you already knew that, didn't you? _DIDN'T YOU?!_**

**_---_**

BPOV

I knew I had to get away from Edward right away. He kept staring at me with those gorgeous green eyes of his, and I could feel my control slipping away.

As soon as the door was closed, my legs gave out and I slumped to the floor. I put my head between my knees and concentrated on breathing in and out slowly.

Had I been listening to him properly? Not once had the word 'weirdo' or 'freak' escaped from his lips - how was that possible? When I'd called him out on it, he'd said, "Weird isn't the right word for it, strange in an intriguing and mildly frightening kind of way, maybe." That shocked me. Did he not have _eyes?_ Did he not _see_ what had happened to me? I was pretty much used to being called every name in the book after one of my episodes, but 'weirdo' and 'freak' were by far the most popular.

I'd been doing so well, too - one full week had passed since my last episode, and it had only been a small one at that.

Technically, I knew Jessica had been the catalyst for the morning's disaster, but she was so unobservant and self-absorbed that she never even noticed that anything had happened to me. But it always sets off a chain-reaction for the rest of the day. I wondered if I should even bother going to my afternoon classes? Hadn't I had enough humiliation for one day?

I tested my legs. The toes could curl. The knees could flex. Good to go.

Slowly, I stood up, stretched, and made my way to my room. I sat down at my desk and opened up my laptop to check my email. Of course there was a concerned email from my mother. As technologically inept as she was, she could sure freak out if I didn't email her at least every other day, and it had only gotten worse after I'd gone to college. I decided that I better respond before she sent a search and rescue team to find me.

"Hi Mom - I fine. Just a little tired. Had a couple of attacks today. No big deal." I typed, purposefully playing down today's event. "I'd better go, lots of homework to do. Love, Bella"

I sighed as memories of my first major episode came flooding back to me.

* * *

_"Mom, I don't want a party! Please do not have one for me."_

_"Nonsense! It's your 16th birthday sweetie, we __have__ to celebrate. We'll invite all of your friends and that boy you mentioned - what was his name again?"_

_"You're not listening to me."_

_"Look Bella, I know you think you don't want a party, but when you're old like me, you'll be glad that you had something to remember from your youth. It'll be fun, I promise!"_

_"Mom, I'm begging you - please don't do this."_

_"You'll thank me later."_

_****_

_She was right. I did thank her later - later when she informed me that the party was off. It seemed that my pleas to cancel it had finally broken through._

_"Fine, Bella. We won't have a party. I think you're making a big mistake, but far be it from me to force you into something you don't want to do."_

_"Oh my God, thank you! Thank you!" I cried, throwing my arms around her. "You don't know how happy this makes me!"_

_"Can Phil and I still take you out to dinner though? There's that new restaurant in the Hyatt Regency - wouldn't that be nice?"_

_I sighed. "I guess so. As long as you promise it won't be a big deal. That means no waiters making me stand on a chair while they sing some stupid birthday song."_

_"Honey, I promise - there will be no waiters singing stupid birthday songs."_

_But there was something I didn't trust about the look on her face._

_***_

_"I don't think this is the way to the restaurant, you guys." I said meekly._

_"Sure it is." Phil laughed. "We reserved a private room. This is the back way."_

_"You're gonna love their food, Bella. It's gotten really good reviews."_

_"Right," I mumbled, rolling my eyes._

_We kept walking until we came to a door marked, 'Banquet Hall.'_

_"Close you eyes sweetie!" My mother giggled._

_"I'd rather not." I replied through clenched teeth._

_Phil threw open the doors, and there were all my friends, plus about 30 other people I didn't know._

_"SURPRISE!" They all yelled._

_Why, God? Why?_

_I shot a horrified look at my mother. "How could you?" I whispered, the anger building inside me._

_Suddenly, they all swarmed around me - everyone trying to hug me and offer me their birthday wishes. My breath started to come in shallow gasps._

_As if things couldn't get worse, there __he__ was - Jon Monson. Dammit - my mother must have weaseled it out of one of my friends._

_He walked right up to me and handed me a small package. "Happy Birthday, Bella." He smiled._

_"Er, ummm, thanksh Jon." My cheeks were getting hotter and hotter as I stood there awkwardly. "It'sh sho nishe of you to...." I stopped speaking. Why the hell was a slurring my words all of a sudden? I sounded like I was drunk for crying out loud!_

_"Bella? Are you okay?" I heard him ask._

_But I couldn't answer him. My voice seemed stuck in my throat._

_"Bella?"_

_Everything seemed to happen in slow motion. People were starting to crowd closer to me, and Jon was looking at me like I was crazy. My legs began to feel like Jell-o, and my arms felt like they each weighed a ton._

_What the hell was happening to me?_

_I became acutely aware that I was falling, and I was powerless to do anything about it. I crashed to my knees and fell face first to the floor. I couldn't even move my arms to break the fall._

_People started gasping and yelling all around me._

_"What happened to her?!"_

_"I think she fainted!"_

_"BELLA!" I heard my mother scream. "What's wrong?!"_

_Someone was shaking me. Hard. I wanted to get up, but not one part of my body would respond. I was vaguely aware that someone's head was very close to my face._

_"She's not breathing, Renee! Call an ambulance!" _

_What?! I'm breathing! I can breathe!_

_Fingers pressed against my neck._

_"She's got no pulse! Hurry!"_

_What do you mean, I have no pulse?! Of course, I have a pulse! I'm not dead...am I?_

_"Hello? I need an ambulance!" My mother's voice was frantic. "It's my daughter - she's not breathing! And we can't find a pulse! The Hyatt Regency - the banquet hall. No, I don't know what happened! She was fine one minute, and then she collapsed. Please, you've got to hurry!" She was crying now._

_I wanted to scream - tell everyone I was okay, but the more everyone panicked, the more I felt trapped inside my body. I didn't think things could get any worse._

_But I was wrong._

_I felt someone pry my mouth open. Lips pressed down over mine. Hot air rushed down my throat and into my lungs._

_Was that - was that __Phil?!__ Oh my God - no, no, no - this cannot be happening to me. Gross!_

_"CPR Renee!" he yelled._

_I had no idea my mother was so strong as her hands performed compressions on my chest. If I could have screamed, I would have - the pain was horrible._

_After what felt like forever, the paramedics had arrived. I kept trying to open my eyes, speak a single word, move a limb, all to no avail._

_Renee cried the entire time - from the time they loaded me into the ambulance all the way to the emergency room._

_"I should have listened to her, Phil! She didn't want a party - why didn't I listen to her!"_

_Yeah, why didn't you?_

_"I'll never forgive myself." She sobbed._

_"It's not your fault, sweetheart."_

_The hell it isn't!_

_They must have taken them out of the room, because I couldn't hear them anymore. I could hear machines beeping and doctor's speaking hurriedly to one another. I heard the words CAPO machine being repeated over and over again and then, finally:_

_"We found a pulse!" _

* * *

That had been years ago. I'd only had a few major episodes since then, but my mother still reacted the same way each time. It wasn't worth it to tell her about the day's actual events.

I sat down on my bed and began to untie my shoes. I was already exhausted and was in desperate need of a nap. But my thoughts turned to Edward and the crooked smile he had given me before I'd ducked into my apartment. I had to be honest with myself - he was gorgeous, and he probably was well aware of that fact. Most good-looking guys were. I'd been keenly aware of his haphazard bronze hair and green eyes from the moment I'd seen him. Just thinking about his face made my heart beat a little faster. I couldn't help it - I closed my eyes and allowed myself to imagine what it would be like to kiss his full lips.

Slowly, my head slumped forward.

_Fuck._

I could tell, this Edward guy spelled bad news for me.

* * *

**AN**: Give us love! You know you want to! :D - Anna

PS - Go to give **Nachos4Children** love, too. She's the mastermind behind this story, after all. And be sure to check out her story, _Clementines_, while you're over there!


	4. All The Wrong Places

**Asthenia  
**Annaleise Marie and Nachos4Children

**Chapter Four**: All the Wrong Places

**AN**: Gooooood morning, and welcome to another installment of Asthenia. In the last chapter, my sugar-pie-honey-bunch, **Nachos4Children**,took you back and looked at Bella's past. In this chapter, I'm going to bring you to Edward's past, and some of his present, and of course his thoughts on Bella.

Get ready. Time travel gives you quite the jet lag.

We don't own Twilight. If we did, I guarantee you that we would not be chillaxing here, writing fanfiction. We would be creating more books so that we could actually make some money off of this shit. – **Annaleise Marie**

---

**EPOV**

On one level, I think of myself as an old-school romantic. I feel like all my life, I've been trying to find that right girl, fall in love, share my life with one person... all of that bullshit that the very worst of country songs are made of.

What I've gotten, however, is a rap song gone to hell. It may sound arrogant, but the simple, unmasked fact is this – I'm sexy as hell. This doesn't always attract the type of girls that are looking for forever. Add to that the fact that my father is a doctor, and even the ones who stick around aren't usually in it for the right reasons. Hell, I've had a few of them try to get to him through me. Never mind the fact that he's married. Bitches after money and sex – nothing more. Matters of blood and connections.

It may be my methods. Bars and clubs probably aren't the best places to look for that special someone. But hell – this is college. Where the hell else am I supposed to look? Sorority and frat parties? No thank you. Those aren't my types of girls anyway. I learned that freshman year, the one time I hooked up with Jessica Stanley. Poor girl. She may have been the only one who truly wanted something more than a hookup every now and then, and yet she was the one that I simply could not stand sober. Her inane prattle, riddled with gossip, and egocentric attitude was just too much for me to stomach.

Yeah, girls, here's a tip: As much as we guys will put up with as far as listening to you go on about every fucking detail of your day, it _is _nice to be asked about ourselves once in awhile. You'd be amazed how far it will go with us putting up with you.

But hell, I've been like this as long as I can remember. Ever since I got my first fake ID in my junior year of high school, it's been the bars, the clubs, the countless hookups.

Which is why I was now situated on a bar stool on a Wednesday night, nursing my third mojito – fuck you, it is _not _a girly drink, it is fucking delicious and I order it with double the rum – and hoping to spot a girl out of my usual dynamics. My thoughts are that a weekday will provide slightly more serious girls than the shallow bar hoppers that swarm the place on the weekends.

Of course, the serious girls are most likely studying or some shit on weekday nights. Maybe I should start hanging out in the library.

I could remember the first time I did this – my first hookup. It was a fucking disaster. I had woken up confused and wondering who the hell was in my bed. I had been smashed, and even after I came to my senses and vaguely remembered what had happened, I still couldn't recall the girl's name. I promptly kicked her out and took an hour long shower.

That feeling of disgust didn't stop it from happening again, and again, and again. No, it just kicked off a solid pattern that I would follow for the next four years of my life.

Which, once more, brings me back to the present, as Angela, the bartender, slid another drink across the bar. I had gone to high school with her, but back then she was just this mousy quiet girl – everyone's friend, but no one worth looking at twice for any reason other than that.

But damn, had she filled out nicely over the two years since high school.

Somehow, I couldn't bring myself to be interested. Since that evening, I hadn't been able to get Bella Swan out of my mind. Bella, with her fucking doe eyes and guarded manner. Bella, with her fucking dying in the middle of class. Bella, suddenly ducking out before I had gotten to get to know her on any real level.

Fucking fascinating.

This was a waste of an evening. I payed my tab, smiling at Angela before leaving. I sat in my Volvo for a few moments, trying to gauge whether or not I was too drunk to drive. Being that I was still a year under the legal drinking age, I didn't need to get pulled over with alcohol in my system. I decided not to risk it. On all technicalities, Dad still owned my car and I didn't need him snatching the thing out from under me.

I took out my cell and dialed the first person I could think of – Emmett. Alice would probably shit a brick if I called her drunk.

"What?" he answered after about ten rings. Bastard needed voicemail.

"Emmett. I'm drunk. Come get me."

"Right now?"

"Nah. Tomorrow," I said, rolling my eyes. "Yes, right now."

"I'm kind of busy right now," he said, and it sounded like he was talking through his teeth. I'm pretty sure he covered the phone that moment but it didn't stop the loud groan from filtering through.

"You did _not_ answer the phone while fucking Rosalie, did you?" I asked, disgusted.

"Not technically, man," he answered. 'Not technically' meant that he was getting head. Go Emmett, I guess. At least _someone _in our family had found their match. Well, I guess I'm pretty much the only one who hadn't. Emmett had found Rosalie in high school and it was pretty much instantaneous. They're so perfect for each other that it's almost sickening. Same with Alice and Jasper, except in all reality they may as well have been together since grade school.

"Emmett," I said. "Get your ass down here. I don't want to spend the night in my car."

"You know, the more I have to hear your voice while this is going on, the longer it's going to take," he said. I wanted to reach through the phone and punch him. "I'll be there in like a half hour."

"That long?"

"If you keep talking."

I hung up and my thoughts immediately turned back to Bella, as they had all day since I had left her at her apartment. She mentioned that she wears an ID bracelet for whatever caused her to... well, die, I guess. So obviously it was something medical. I toyed with the idea of asking Dad about it, but quickly threw that option out. I'd rather keep her interesting to me, at least until I found out if I actually liked her enough to bother.

Which, so far, I did. Probably more than I should. Definitely more than I should. Despite the whole looking-for-a-soulmate thing, this scared the shit out of me. I'd equate it with going to an amusement park, and waiting in line for hours to ride the fastest roller coaster, and then once you're actually strapped in and there's that moment before it starts, you regret for an instant getting on it.

Hopefully, following that analogy, it would all be worth it at the end, when your blood's pumping and your adrenaline's up, and all that you want in life in that one moment is to go again.

No matter what happened, I could already tell one thing for sure – Bella Swan spelled trouble for me.

---

Apparently, Bella Swan also spelled liver damage for me. I've never been good at coping with things – and meeting her was somehow confusing and wonderful and terrified me out of my wits and was _definitely _something that required some coping.

Alcohol is my coping mechanism.

"Get out of bed," I heard Jasper shout and I groaned, rolling over and staring at the ceiling, trying to make my eyes stop watering as the light filtering through the blinds well... blinded me. I guess. Fuck. I'm not thinking clearly.

"What?" I asked, looking at Jasper. Fuck, he looked pissed. Was I in his bed? His room was right next to mine, so it was known to happen on the nights he stayed with Alice. Fuck. If I weren't already sobered up, that would have done the trick. Jasper and my sister.

"Your computer has been fucking _dinging _for the last hour and you left it on the coffee table. I don't want to invade your privacy, or damage your shit, but one of those are going to happen if you don't make the fucking _dinging_ stop," he commanded. I groaned and rolled out of bed. Literally. I never realized before how passably comfy my floor is. I may just stay here.

"I'm going to take a baseball bat to it," he said and that pried me off of the floor. I'll be damned if he's going to hurt my brand new Apple laptop.

I trudged to the living room and sat on the couch, staring blearily at my computer screen to try to figure out why the computer was – as Jasper said – fucking _dinging_.

Oh. Email. Thank you, AOL, you insistent fucker.

_Edward Cullen -  
This is an email confirming that your order was delivered at eight o'clock this morning. We appreciate your business and hope that you will continue trusting us with all of your floral needs._

My "floral needs"? What the fuck? I don't think I've ever had "floral needs" in my life.

_For a summary of your order, click the link below_.

How very handy.

I stared at the summary page, trying to make sense of it.

_One dozen roses.  
Deliver to: Bella Swan, 432 Commerce Dr., Apt. 207, Seattle, WA, 98102.  
Note: "Bella – Hope you're feeling better. – Edward"_

Wha-huh? When did I order...

Fuck. Captain Morgan, you fucked me _hard _last night.

Well, hopefully she would take this as me being a suave mother fucker and not some weird stalkerish freak who walked her home so that he would know where she lived and... I don't know, watched her sleep or something.

Well, one thing was for sure. Class the next day was sure to be interesting.

---

**AN**: I know. It's short. Quite short. I apologize. But I'm the sort of person who doesn't give a shit about word count and just writes what she wants until she feels like it's time to stop. For the record, though, I average about 3,500 words, so future chapters will probably be longer. I'm still feeling out Edward's character.

Thoughts? I'd love to hear them! 8Dd – **Annaleise Marie**


	5. The Fifty Dollar Prank

**Asthenia  
**Annaleise Marie and Nachos4Children

**Chapter Five**:

**A/N: Annaleise Marie and I may or may not own a small amount of Nazi gold, but we definitely do NOT own Twilight.**

**-Nachos4Children**

**BPOV**

Shit! I'd done it again. Music Appreciation was just starting and here I was, running up the stairs to the lecture hall like a moron.

I hadn't wanted to draw any more attention to myself today, so you would think that I would have been able to get my ass out of bed properly to avoid any more humiliation. I stopped outside the hall and took a deep breath. I didn't want a repeat of two days ago, so I eased the door open slowly and slipped quietly inside.

To my relief, no one seemed to notice me. Thank God.

Wait a minute. I looked around the room. Something was very off. Why was everyone wearing black? And why were they all gathered around the podium? Maybe I had missed something after I'd left our last class earlier due to my, well, condition. I could barely hear the professor's voice - but I thought I heard him mention the words "Bella" and " terrible tragedy."

What the hell?

Curious, I slid out of my seat and tip-toed toward the front of the room. I craned my neck to look over the other students and gasped at what I saw.

The professor wasn't standing in front of the class lecturing them - he was giving a eulogy and standing in front of a white coffin.

My coffin.

Placed on top of it, was an arrangement of flowers with a banner that read, "Rest in Peace, Isabella Marie Swan," my senior picture, in a gilded frame stood next to it.

This was crazy.

I cleared my throat. "Excuse me, but I'm not dead."

No one responded. No one so much as turned their head to look at me.

So I said it again, louder.

Nothing.

I walked around until I was standing next to the professor. I waved my arms and shouted, "HELLO! I'M RIGHT HERE! WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU PEOPLE?!"

A girl began to weep softly.

I looked at her sharply. "What the hell are you crying for? You don't even know who I am!"

She turned to the boy next to her, who put his arm around her comfortingly. I saw a small smile appear on her face.

Oh goody. It was nice to know that my 'death' would result in the physical union of two moron assholes.

"Would anyone like to say a few words about the life of Bella Swan?" I heard the professor ask.

"I would," said a familiar voice.

Edward.

I hadn't even seen him until now. He was wearing a black suit and tie, the white shirt underneath was slightly rumpled. His bronze hair was in casual disarray, and his face was covered with a small amount of stubble. In his hand, he held a single red rose. My heart began to beat faster - he looked absolutely breathtaking.

He ran his free hand over the smooth wood of my coffin and then gently placed the rose on top of the coffin.

I stepped between him and the coffin. "Edward, I'm not dead. Please look at me," I pleaded.

"Bella?" His green eyes looked right into mine.

"Yes, I'm here!" I sighed with relief. "How is it that you can see me, but no one else can? What is going on?"

"Bella?"

"Edward?" My brow furrowed in confusion. He _could_ see me - couldn't he?

"Bella!"

My eyes flew open. I was lying in my bed, underneath my warm covers and Edward was standing in my doorway.

"What the hell are you doing in here?!" I yelled at him.

"Sor-ry," he said. "But the doorbell is ringing and I don't have any makeup on. I called you three times, but you didn't answer. I thought you might be dead, so I came in. Sue me."

Huh?

I closed my eyes tightly and shook my head. When I opened them again, it wasn't Edward standing there - it was Jessica.

My sigh was a mixture of both relief and slight disappointment.

I looked over at my clock. 7:54am it read. Who the fuck was ringing our doorbell this early in the morning?

"Fine. I'll answer it then. Go put your makeup on, Jess." I rolled my eyes.

I rolled out of my bed, and threw on my robe. Quickly, I made my way to the front door and peeked through the peephole. There was a bored looking delivery man standing there holding a bouquet of roses. Fucking A. If Jessica was sending flowers to herself again, the least she could have done was answer the goddamn door herself.

"Delivery for Bella Swan," he said.

Me? Seriously?

"Ummm, I'm Bella."

"Sign here please." He thrust an electronic clipboard toward me.

"Thanks," I mumbled as I scrawled my name on the screen. I wasn't sure about the etiquette of this situation. Was I supposed to tip him? If so, how much? And I'd be damned if my purse wasn't all the way back in my bedroom. I eyed the change jar sitting on the end table. Was it ever appropriate to tip in all quarters?

But before I could figure it all out, he had shoved the flowers in my hands and was walking away. Asshat. Didn't deserve a tip anyway.

I carried the flowers over to the kitchen and set them down on the counter.

Well, this was new. I'd never gotten roses out of the blue before. I eyed the plain white envelope nestled within the arrangement. Curiously, I took out the little card. It read:

Bella,  
Hope you're feeling better.  
- Edward

No fucking way.

I bit my lip as I read and re-read the card over and over again. I had no idea what I was supposed to think. Who the hell would spend $49.99 on someone they barely knew? Was this supposed to be a _joke?_ It had to be - an incredibly elaborate joke to make me feel even more humiliated about yesterday. I mean, people send flowers to funerals, don't they? They looked eerily similar to flower arrangement in my dream this morning. What a dick.

I didn't need this and I certainly didn't need him to make fun of me.

Angrily, I pulled out the box of Eggo waffles from the freezer and shoved one into the toaster.

Who the hell did Mr. Edward "I'm-so-rich-that-I-can-throw-away-money-on-a-practical-joke" Cullen think he was, anyway? Fuck him.

I poured myself a glass of milk and got out the syrup.

As pissed off as I was, there was a small part of my brain that held out hope that maybe, just maybe - he really did care about me. Maybe he was even attracted to me. I tried to push those thoughts aside. No point in getting excited for something that would never happen. No guy would want the hassle of having to explain why their date was dead all the time. And why was I even thinking about dating Edward in the first place? It's not like the card said, "Bella, Hope you're feeling better because I'm madly in love with you. -Edward"

The sound of my waffle popping up in the toaster snapped me out of my internal debate. I slapped it onto a plate and poured on the syrup.

As I chewed, I began to worry about class tomorrow. Would I be able to look at him without kneeing him in the balls or punching him on his chiseled jaw? Should I ignore him when he tried to talk to me, _if_ he even tried to talk to me.

I'd been sitting at the counter for God knows how long when Jessica came waltzing in - makeup plastered all over her face. I never understood how she could possibly think that she looked good like that. To me, she looked like a common whore. As usual.

"Did I get flowers again?" she said, as she eyed the bouquet suspiciously.

"They're for me, actually."

"I didn't know it was your birthday."

"It's not."

"Oh. Well, then who are they from?" she said incredulously.

"You know, that's not really any of your business."

Before I could react, she snatched the card off the counter and ran away giggling.

"C'mon, Jessica! Give it back! What are you? 5 years old?" I shouted, chasing after her. But I was too late.

"EDWARD!?" she shrieked. "The only Edward I know is Edward Cullen. Are they from him?"

"You know him?"

"Hell yeah, I know him," she giggled. "Boring as a rock, sexy as hell, and a damn good fuck! Why does he think you're sick?"

My heart sank. Well that settled it. Either this was a cruel prank or he just wanted to get laid. And I was not happy with either option. Besides, if he went after girls like Jessica, I wasn't sure I wanted anything to do with him anyway. What a douche.

"I actually feel pretty nauseous right now." My voice was dry.

"Ew." She cover her mouth and nose with her hands. "Don't breathe on me!"

"Don't worry, it's not contagious."

"Whatever. So are you and Edward, like, dating now?"

"No. Definitely not," I said decisively.

"Bummer, 'cause he's got a huge—"

Before she could say one more word, I clapped my hand over my mouth and ran for the bathroom.


	6. Chapter 6

**Asthenia  
**Annaleise Marie and Nachos4Children

**Chapter Six**: Hot and Ready

**AN**: Ah, it's been awhile, guys. So sorry. Technical difficulties and all that. But I won't bore you with all of that. Instead, let's get this show on the road, shall we?

This is the first chapter co-written by Nachos4Children and myself. Hope you like it!

Nachos4Children and I may or may not own large tracts of land in the south, but we definitely don't own Twilight. That belongs to Stephenie Meyer.

- Annaleise Marie

---

**EPOV**

Stupid Jasper. Stupid Jasper and his fucking shower radio. Stupid Jasper using all of the hot water because he "really likes this song, too" on his fucking shower radio. Stupid Jasper forcing me to take a cold shower. Stupid Jasper making me late for class because cold showers take so much longer than hot ones.

And it wouldn't even be a big deal, if I were still dreading class with Bella, but yesterday I had come to terms with what I had done. Besides, it really wasn't even that big of a deal. All I had done was send her good wishes for her health. It was only polite.

And, you know, the fifty-dollar roses were just a nice gesture because a card would look stupid without them.

Fuck. Me.

But still, I wasn't _dreading_ seeing her. I was fully prepared for this. As long as she didn't ask any questions.

I pushed the door to the lecture hall opened, nodding to the professor and taking my seat. Bella was already there, once more two seats away from me. God, people really are creatures of habit. She glanced at me for a second before her eyes snapped back to the blank projector screen at the front of the room, waiting for the professor to start the lecture.

"Good morning," I said. Why was I trying to start a conversation with her? Wasn't that what I wanted to avoid? It had been, until I actually sat down. But I couldn't _not_ talk to her now that she was there, beside me, and so pointedly ignoring me as her eyes stayed fixed on the screen. "How are you?"

She didn't say anything. Damn, she's good at ignoring people. Just a _little_ too still, otherwise I would have wondered if maybe she actually hadn't heard me.

"That bad of a day already?" I asked, smiling at her. She sighed.

"Edward, we're in class. I'm trying to pay attention so stop talking to me," she said bluntly. I glanced at the front of the room, where the professor was still organizing her notes.

"Aside from the fact that class hasn't started yet, do you really need to be told how to appreciate Mozart or whoever we'll be hearing about today?" I asked. She finally looked at me, her eyes narrowed. Whoa, that's not a good look.

"Do you just get off on making fun of me or something?" she asked.

"I wouldn't take it that far," I answered, smiling. Her eyes narrowed further. How did she even manage that? "Look, I just wanted to make sure that you're feeling better. You don't have to get mad about it."

"Of course not," she said, almost under her breath, her eyes no longer meeting mine. "Why should I get mad at the asshat who's made it his purpose in life to make me the butt of an elaborate joke?"

There was that name again. _Asshat_. What kind of insult is that, really? What _is _an asshat? The closest thing I could come up with for it was when Emmett first met Rosalie and he commented that he would "wear her ass as a hat".

I shuddered for a moment at the memory. My brother is the fucking King of TMI.

"Elaborate joke? Why would you think that I'm making fun of you?" I asked as the lights dimmed and the projector came on. She dutifully ignored me. "No, really. I'm pretty sure that I've actually been pretty nice to you, considering—"

"Considering _what_, exactly?" she hissed as the professor started her lecture, her head snapping towards me again.

"Well, considering the fact that I really have nothing at stake in being nice to you," I said bluntly. She looked taken aback, as though that hadn't been what she was expecting. What the hell had she been expecting, if not that?

"You—" she started, only to be cut off by the professor.

"Miss Swan, Mr. Cullen," she started sharply, causing Bella to jump a little. "I hope I'm not interrupting you?"

"No, ma'am," we answered guiltily. It was like being called out in grade school for passing notes, with the fear that the teacher will read them to the class.

Thankfully, we weren't asked if we would like to 'share anything with the class' – because really, I had _no _idea what I would say if we were, other than another 'no ma'am' – and she continued to drone on about… someone. I didn't bother to look at the screen.

"Go to lunch with me," I whispered. She stared straight ahead, her pen moving over her paper quickly. I craned my neck, wondering if she was really taking notes or just trying to look preoccupied to avoid answering me.

She shook her head minutely after a moment.

"Why not?"

She tossed her notebook onto my desk in response. How very bold. And now I could see, in her loopy, girly writing, exactly what _notes_ she had been taking.

_You are not Ashton Kutcher. This is not Punk'd. Now kindly leave me alone so that I can focus on this class. _

Well. Fine, then.

Except it's _not_. Even as I told myself that it didn't matter, that she was a bitch and it was useless trying to get along with her, I was becoming more and more aware that it _did_ matter. Why was she so convinced that I was playing a joke on her? I mean, yeah, whatever had happened had to have been embarrassing for her, but why was she taking it out on me? I hadn't done anything horribly wrong. Or, not that I was aware of, anyway. God forbid I show concern for someone.

And, okay, that was strange for me, but _she _didn't know that.

Did she?

No, there was no way she could know that.

Except… The building directory that said, "Stanley, Swan". It _couldn't_ be Jessica Stanley, could it? That would just be too much of a coincidence. And too much of a middle finger from fate. Because as far-fetched as even I knew it was, there had to be some sort of fate going on here. I do _not_ get captivated or intrigued or even mildly interested – definitely not borderline obsessive. But here I am. I blame fate. That's it.

I turned my attention back to her notebook and uncapped my pen, scribbling a response before glancing at the professor and tossing it back onto Bella's desk. I heard her sigh heavily as she read it.

_Lunch?_

Her response was quick, and the notebook landed more forcefully this time. I almost laughed, wondering if she was restraining herself from beating me with the flimsy one-subject spiral-ruled ledger.

_Leave me alone_.

_Until lunch?_ I wrote, trying not to smile too much as I passed it back. I still wasn't making fun of _her_, but this was kind of funny. Her next note took me by surprise, though, and stopped the amusement.

_If you leave me alone until then. _

I glanced at her, trying to gauge if she was serious or not. She looked on-edge, her fist clenched tightly on the edge of her desk, her eyes appearing half-closed and glazed in the dim light of the hall.

_Deal_, I wrote and passed the notebook back. She didn't reply and, true to my word, I left her alone for the rest of the class. She slipped a loose piece of paper onto my desk as the professor excused the class.

_My terms_, it read, followed by an address. By the time I finished reading the short note, she was gone.

---

BPOV

My terms? _My terms?_ What the hell was I thinking? Who did I think I was - some freaking terrorist with a list of demands?

Truth be told, the moment I saw Edward walk into the classroom, I had nearly forgotten why I was mad at him. There was something about the way his hair was perfectly disheveled that made me want to reach out and touch it.

But the moment he opened his mouth, all the anger came flooding back to me. Small talk? Really?

And then, here we were passing notes back and forth like seventh graders. I would have agreed to almost anything at that moment to get him to stop, because if the professor called us out one more time, I would die. And not necessarily figuratively speaking.

After I left him that final note with the address of a busy little cafe and the time to meet me, I darted out of the classroom and into the bathroom across the hall. I ran my hands under the cold water and pressed my wet palms to my face.

"Calm down, Bella." I told myself. "You can handle this."

I pulled a brush out of my backpack and ran it through my long hair while I focused on breathing in and out. When I had revived its glossy shine, I felt relaxed enough to venture back out. Thankfully, the hallway was clear. Not that I had expected him to be waiting for me or anything.

I walked to my locker, grabbed my violin case, and hunted for an available practice room. What better way to kill a few hours than practicing orchestra excerpts?

Two and half hours later, my fingers were sore and my neck was stiff, but I had made Beethoven's Overture from "Prometheus" my personal bitch. Professor Bucknell, my violin instructor, would be very pleased.

I stopped at home for a little bit before I headed over the cafe, happy to realize that Jessica wasn't home. I looked at the roses still sitting on our kitchen counter - they were so beautiful and vibrant - it hurt to think that they were all a part of his sick joke. I fingered a soft petal lightly. How I wished they meant something else entirely.

The Cottage was one of my favorite places to eat. It was moderately busy most of the time, but it was a great place to study as well - nice and quiet. Their food was delicious - lots of baked goods, homemade breads, soups, and salads to choose from. I almost always ordered the same thing each time: turkey on sourdough with mayo, lettuce, tomatoes, and sprouts - no onions, a side of macaroni salad, and a cherry pastry. Sure, I'd tried other items, all of them enjoyable, but why mess with perfection?

I arrived at the cafe a little early, but to my surprise, he was already sitting in a booth by the window, his head buried in a menu and fingers drumming rapidly against the table top.

The light poured in through the window pane, causing the subtle shade of color in his hair to pop. Daaaaaamn. He looked as good as anything on the menu.

I walked up to him and cleared my throat. His head snapped up and for a moment, I thought he looked genuinely shocked that I had actually shown up. He scrambled to his feet and gestured toward the opposite side of the booth.

"Please, sit down."

I kept my eyes carefully on him as I slid into the seat. Bad idea. That only reminded me that there wasn't a part of his face that I _didn't_ like looking at. But I was here to clear the air with him, to stop this bizarre practical joke before it went any further.

He pushed the menu toward me, but I waved my hand at it dismissively. Today was not a day to venture out of my comfort zone.

"You're not going to order anything?!" he exclaimed incredulously.

"Yeah, I'm anorexic - can't you tell?"

He stared at me in disbelief.

"Ummm, that was my lame attempt at a joke." I groaned. "I already know what I'm having."

Relief spread across his adorable features and he relaxed a little.

"Sooooo....uhhhhhh.....?" He ran a hand through his hair and looked at me expectantly.

"What?" I demanded. First crappy small talk and now he was tongue tied?

"I'm just waiting for you to state your terms."

"Oh."

But before I could even make some up, the waitress came over to take our order.

"Hi, I'm Amber," she said, more to Edward than to me. "Are you guys separate or together?" I could see her practically undressing Edward with her eyes as she took out a pad and pen. She was probably wondering what a gorgeous creature like him was doing with a plain Jane like me.

"Separate," I said at the same time that Edward said, "Together."

She looked back and forth at the two of us. "Do you need a little more time?" The small smirk on her face did not go unnoticed by me. I kind of wanted to slap it.

"No," I said firmly. "They're separate."

Edward opened his mouth to protest, but I mouthed the words, "my terms" at him before he could say anything.

He nodded at the waitress, whose eyes lit up like Fourth of July sparklers at this development.

She sidled a little closer to him. "And what can I get you, sir?" I rolled my eyes as I watched her eyelashes flutter at him.

_Give me a break._

"Turkey on sourdough with everything and a side of macaroni salad."

Are you fucking kidding me?

"Excellent choice," she said, turning toward me, but keeping her gaze on Edward. "And for you?"

"Actually, I'll have the same thing, but hold the onions, please. And I'll have a Coke."

"Two Cokes," Edward added quickly.

"Coming right up," she practically purred at him and then she winked. That bitch fucking _winked_ at him.

My blood began to boil. I mean, it's not like I had any claim on Edward - far from it - but _come on_. Who does that to a guy who's sitting with another woman?

"Skank," I whispered under my breath as she walked away.

I heard Edward chuckle quietly. "Sorry about that," he said sheepishly.

"No big deal. I'm sure you're used to it." I shrugged at him.

He raised an eyebrow. "What does that mean?"

"Nothing. I imagine that women throw themselves at you all the time - especially skanks like our waitress. You must feel like a kid in a candy store wherever you go."

"Wow. I'm not even sure how to respond to that."

It was fun watching the blood rush into someone else's cheeks for a change.

---

**EPOV**

She had no idea. None whatsoever. She was right; most places I went, I had my choice of women. But it was _annoying as shit_. Especially today, when I'm trying like hell to figure out what's going on with Bella, while trying to stay on her good side, without making her think that I was somehow making a joke out of her.

That still confused the hell out of me. What joke had I made? It had to be something big to inspire this animosity.

The point is, I have enough on my plate at the moment without having to fend off "skanks," as Bella so delicately put it. It would have been easy enough, if Bella hadn't been so adamant about us not being "together."

I decided to focus on that instead of Bella's comment, since I could still feel myself blushing and that shit needed to stop. Since when did I _blush?_

"You know, it's only polite if a guy asks a girl out, for him to pay," I said. This was nothing but the truth. Or, at least, the way I was raised.

"This isn't a date," she pointed out. "Besides, you've spent enough money, don't you think?"

"What?" I asked, taken aback. This was our first not-date. What was she talking about?

"The flowers?" she prompted. Ah, right, those.

"Yeah, about those…" I started, trying to figure out how to explain that. She held up her hand to stop me.

"My terms, first," she said before pausing, as though searching for words. "First, don't spend money on me. I don't need it, want it, or know you well enough to be comfortable with it. Second, this is a one-time thing. Don't start like, stalking me here," she said, biting her lip and wincing a bit, as though she regretted saying it. She should. I wouldn't _stalk _her. Okay. I might. But it wouldn't be stalking. It would be providing protective oversight. And anyway, I liked this place. If I ate lunch here every once in a while, I wouldn't be _stalking _her. Although if I happened to see her…

"Third," she said, bringing me out of my thoughts. "I'm not a cancer patient. Don't ask me every time you see me how I'm feeling, or something. I'm fine." Well okay, it wasn't cancer. Cross that off the list. But what _was _it? I felt like asking her might be an offense of those terms. "And last, I reserve the right to make up terms as I go along."

On some level, I felt like I should be offended by her demanding these things, but on another, much more prominent level, I was ready to agree to all of them. That bugged me. I told myself it was only because they were actually reasonable, if abrasive.

I nodded in agreement as the "skank" waitress brought us our food. Now that I thought about it, Bella had seemed very hostile about her hitting on me. And now she wasn't really doing anything to make me think I was imagining it, as she was glaring daggers at the waitress as she bent over unnecessarily low to put our plates on the table, allowing me to look down her shirt.

Dark blue lace. Not bad. But I couldn't help but think that it would look better against Bella's pale skin, with her dark hair tumbling over her shoulders to rest against the swell of her chest…

I shifted in my chair a bit, pushing those thoughts from my mind.

"So," she started after the waitress sashayed – yes, fucking _sashayed_, like she was on a runway, or something – away. "What did you want to talk about?"

"What am I allowed to talk about?" I asked, laughing. She blushed. "I didn't really want to talk about anything in particular. I just thought it would be nice to have lunch with you."

"That's it?" she asked, looking doubtful.

"Well, and I wanted to make sure you were okay after Monday," I admitted. "But as I'm not allowed to ask about that…" I trailed off, glancing at her, half-hoping that she'd answer anyway. She was looking down at her plate, poking at the macaroni salad with her fork, her dark hair falling in a curtain over her face. "So, what's all this about an elaborate joke?" I asked, figuring it was safe to ask that.

She dropped her fork, raising her head to look at me incredulously. Okay, I guess I was supposed to know what that was all about.

"Really?" she asked. I nodded. "The flowers?"

"You didn't like them, then?" I asked, a bit disappointed.

"No, I liked them," she muttered, looking down at her plate again. "It just seems a little… strange."

"Really? I thought it was a pretty common custom," I said. "You know, sending flowers to someone who's under the weather."

"Well, yeah," she said slowly, still not meeting my gaze. "And for funerals."

I didn't know what to say to that. It was the second time she had rendered me speechless in this one meal. When she said it like that, it _did_ sound like a joke. A cruel, elaborate joke. I almost felt like apologizing, even though that wasn't what I had done.

My phone vibrated in my pocket and I reached down, feeling around the edge of the material for the silence button. Whatever it was, I could deal with it later. With my luck, it was probably Jessica or someone that I _really_ didn't want to hear from, anyway. It was about time to change my number again. I should really just stop letting those girls get it. But some of them were _sneaky_, with the "Oh, I must have lost my phone, could I use yours to call mine so I can find it?" shit.

"Well, it wasn't a joke, just well-wishes," I said, turning my attention back to Bella. "I'm sorry if I offended you. I just… worry about you." That wasn't the right phrase. It didn't _quite_ fit how I felt about her. But, as I wasn't sure how I felt about her, this was as close as it was going to get.

"You don't know me," she said. "I guess I just don't get why you would seriously be so concerned."

I didn't either, honestly. I didn't even know what made me send the flowers, not being aware that I had done it until the next morning. But you know what they say: drunk actions are sober thoughts. So I guess I had to accept the fact that I was, no matter what the reason.

"I just… feel like you're someone that I should kind of… watch out for," I said. That didn't sound right, either. Why was it so hard to find words to describe how I felt about her?

"I don't need you to watch you for me," she informed me.

"I know," I said. "What I mean is that for some reason, I like to know that you're okay."

"I guess I just don't get _why_," she said after studying me for a second. I laughed.

"Neither do I, really," I admitted, smiling. We were both quiet for awhile as we ate. I couldn't decide if it was awkward or not.

My phone started vibrating again, and this time I fished it out and checked the ID. Emmett. Definitely not dealing with that right now. For Alice, I would answer, because it would be dangerous not to. But knowing Emmett, this was something stupid.

"Do you need to answer that?" Bella asked. I shook my head and sat it on the table.

"So, what do you like to do, other than the whole music thing?" I asked. Back to the small talk. It was okay with me. She was the first girl in a long time that I actually had any interest in learning anything about, past the colour of her underwear.

"Well," she said, thinking for a second. "I like to read. Mostly the classics. Modern literature isn't really my cup of tea." She took a sip of her Coke before looking at me expectantly. "What about you?"

That was a tricky question. I drank in my free time, for the most part. But that wouldn't exactly sound impressive. I tried to think of the last thing I had done that I enjoyed that didn't involve alcohol or music.

"My brother and I box sometimes," I said. We hadn't been in awhile, what with him settling into the married life with Rosalie and all, but it had been something I enjoyed through high school and my first year of college.

"Are you any good?" she asked.

"If you mean do I win, no," I said, laughing. "He's three years older than me, and freaking _huge_. The most I can do is evade him. Not super useful in boxing. Contact is kind of required."

"I imagine," she said. I couldn't tell if I was boring her, or if she just didn't have anything to say about it.

My phone started vibrating _again_, and I refrained from cursing as I saw Emmett's name flashing on the screen again. I muttered an apology to Bella before answering it.

"What?" I snapped, not caring if I sounded rude. Asshole should know not to bug me like this.

"Dude! What the hell are you doing? I've been trying to get hold of you for the last fifteen minutes!" Emmett boomed. He said that like fifteen minutes had been his whole lifetime.

"I know. Do you need something?" I asked shortly.

"Man, Rose's old roommate came into town and you have _got _to meet her. Her name's Tanya Denali and I'm telling you, if I didn't have Rose…" he trailed off and I was glad he refrained from voicing his thoughts, given the fact that his voice was carrying across the table, if not the whole restaurant, on his sheer natural volume alone. "Anyway, I'm telling you, you _have_ to meet her. I've been talking you up and you're as good as in, man!"

_Jesus Christ, he has bad timing. _

Bella scooted her chair back, standing up and grabbing her purse from where it was hanging on the back. She pulled out a few bills, placing them on the table and walking away before I had time to react.

"—Blonde, tall… Think Rose, but… softer. More your type. She's in for the week, but—" Emmett was still going on and on about whatserface, Rosalie's friend, on the other end.

"Yeah, Emmett, I've gotta go," I interrupted him as I stood to leave. He faltered for a second before plowing ahead.

"Yeah, okay, but you're going to be by later, right? Cause I know you're capable of getting your own chicks but this girl is _ace_—"

"Yeah, Em, whatever, bye," I said hurriedly, taking a few bills from my wallet for my meal and throwing them down as I hurried from the café, practically knocking down the waitress as I went.

When I got outside I scanned the street quickly, whipping my head from side to side in search of Bella. Nothing. Damn, she moves fast.

I thought about going in the direction of her apartment building to try to catch up with her, but then realized that she was probably on her way to her next class, and I had no idea where that was. The campus was pretty big, after all.

My phone vibrated and I took it out to see a text message from Emmett.

_You in or out, man?_

I sighed and replied to tell him I'd be by after class. Might as well. After that, I went on to clear my missed call list, otherwise the stupid thing would be going off through my next class like I didn't know I had missed the call.

The first one, the one that I had silenced without taking my phone out of my pocket, had been from Alice. Shit. I should've answered that. I could have avoided this whole mess.

And by now, she probably knew what had happened, and she was probably after my blood.

---

**BPOV**

God, I am so stupid. So fucking stupid. I had actually almost begun to relax and enjoy myself when the Enola Gay flew overhead and dropped the atomic bomb. I don't know who was on the other end of that phone call - a brother, friend, a fucking pimp, for all I knew - but far be it from me to stand in the way of the hot and ready pussy waiting for him like a Little Caesar's carryout pizza.

I hated how I felt at this moment - a mixture of hurt, disappointment, and embarrassment. I needed to get the fuck out of there. I was thankful that I had enough actual cash in my purse to cover my share of the bill. It would have been ten times more humiliating if I had to ask that skank waitress to run my debit card.

I dashed out the door and walked quickly to the bookstore down the block. I looked down at my watch - it was 12:37. I didn't have class again until 1:30, so this would be a safe place for me to stay until then.

I hadn't even been in there for two minutes when I felt a hand on my shoulder.

"Don't touch me, Edward," I snapped as I spun around to face him.

But it wasn't Edward standing in front of me.

"Alice?" I said hesitantly, not sure if I remembered her name correctly. "You're Edward's sister, right?"

"That's right." She smiled warmly at me, but I detected a hint of sadness to it. "Hi Bella."

"Umm, hi. What are you doing here?" I slapped my hand to my forehead. "I'm sorry, that sounded really rude of me. I didn't mean it like that."

She giggled at me. "It's okay. I was actually on my way to stop Edward from - I mean, speak to Edward about something. But apparently, I'm too late. Then I saw you walk in here, so I thought I'd come say hello and see how you were feeling."

I was about to answer her when I noticed her eyes flit to the window as something caught her eye. I followed her gaze and saw Edward standing out in the middle of the street, looking around.

I cringed and ducked behind a shelf of books, so that I wouldn't be visible in case he glanced this way.

"Well, there he is," I said, not quite sure what she meant by being 'too late.' "You can probably still catch him."

She looked at me apologetically. "I'm sorry to take off so quickly, but I really should talk to him. Maybe we can get together for a cup of coffee or something some time? Would that be alright?"

"Uhhh, yeah. That would be okay." I said, not quite sure how to respond to that. I mean, what was with this family? I didn't know any of them, and already they were sneaking me out of class, sending me flowers, and buying me meals and coffee. Weird.

"Great! I'll talk to you later, then!" she squealed, then kissed me quickly on the cheek before dashing out the door and leaving me slightly stunned in her wake.

I stuck my head out from behind the shelf and watched her catch up to Edward on the sidewalk across the street. Wow. It looked like Alice was reading him the riot act - she had one hand on her hip and the other was gesturing wildly and pointing accusingly in his face. I looked like she wasn't letting him get a word in edgewise.

And for some reason, that made me feel a little better.

---

**AN**: So, what'd you guys think? I look forward to hearing from you!

One of the big discussion points for us about this chapter was the lack of a planned time for Bella and Edward to meet for lunch. Just for anyone else who may be confused, let me say that this is a regional thing. Where I live, if you say "we'll meet up at lunch", you are saying "we'll meet up at noon". If it's not noon, then you specify a time. I didn't realize it was done differently in other places. Just like I've heard tale that some people actually measure distance in miles instead of minutes. Pfft. Not where I live, dearies, not where I live.

Anyway, that rambling aside, most of the credit for this chapter goes to Nachos4Children – although she'll never admit it – because she pulled me out of writers block like, twice, in addition to writing the BPOV parts, and spent about three days tweeting with me about all of this, trying to figure out what's going on. Haha. So if you would be so kind, go give her love, too? Her profile is getting almost no action for this story, I guess because it's been on mine longer so this is where most of you guys have alerts? Anyway, I know she'd love to hear from you, too. Feedback is what us writers live off of, you know. :D

Love you all, and we'll see you next chapter! In the meantime, come play with us on Twitter. We're fun, and our tweets feature things like, "Just saw a license plate that says "OPN WIDE". West Virginia just got so much more epic", awesome 'literary battles", and unintentional teasers for the next chapter, if it goes anything like this one did. Follow us: HoudinisBox and AnnaNocturnal.

-- Annaleise Marie


	7. Truancy and Tardiness

**Asthenia**

Annaleise Marie and Nachos4Children

**Chapter** **Seven**: Truancy and Tardiness

**AN**: Nachos4Children and I may or may not own... Hmm... I don't know, a kinky love dungeon. But we don't own Twilight. That is, of course, Stephenie Meyer. I'm pretty sure Nachos4Children owns Terrance the nice waiter, though.

- Annaleise Marie

---

**(EPOV)**

No matter how Emmett had tried to talk her up, Tanya wasn't anything special.

Well, maybe that was unfair to her. Maybe if I hadn't had my mind on someone the complete opposite of her, with her strawberry blonde hair and sharp gray eyes, I would have been way into her. She was at least intelligent, could hold a decent conversation about something other than herself, was pretty witty, and had nice body on top of that. Maybe, if I had met her before, I would have seen her as being what I had been looking for.

But no, even now, as her head rested on my chest, her fingers tracing lazy patterns over my stomach, I couldn't take my mind off of the opposite – Bella. The girl I hadn't managed to form any bond with strong enough to withstand that damned call from loud, obnoxious, voice-could-carry-across-a-fucking-football-field Emmett.

Christ, Alice had been really mad about this one, for some reason. I mean, I regularly ignore her – not that it usually ends well for me but there you have it – and she almost never gets this angry. You would think I had just somehow snubbed the saviour of the fucking universe.

And by this angry, I mean angry to the point of tracking me down and shouting at the top of her little pixie voice at me in the middle of the street.

I saw her coming, barreling out of the bookstore, all ninety-odd pounds of her positively radiating anger.

"Edward Masen!" she shouted, and that's when I knew it was bad. She only used my original surname when she wanted to distance us as family. "What the hell? Why would you answer Emmett's call and not mine? Don't you know by now that what I have to say is important?"

Well, she was being a little arrogant there. I couldn't even begin to tell you how many calls I've had to field about "ah-mazing" men's sales and how I "absolutely needed" to update my wardrobe. But given that she was right this time, I didn't say anything. Not that she would have given me the chance as she plowed on, gesticulating wildly in her frustration.

"But no, you had to ignore my warning and answer that call. Didn't you even read the text? No, of course you didn't! You wanna know how I know? I saw that you didn't! I see things, Edward, which is why you should listen to me! Jesus Christ, you are so hard-headed. Well, I hope it was worth it! I hope the cheap floozy Tanya will be worth it! Of course, I already know, but you wouldn't listen to me anyway so I'm not going to tell you!" she finished, her tone suggesting that she was itching to add on a "so take that!"

"And it doesn't matter to you that I take time out of my day to keep your ass out of the fire! I'm missing my Chem lab, but no, the great Edward Masen can't be bothered to care about that," she continued, apparently catching her second wind. "Next time I see you getting in trouble, maybe I'll just ignore it, and then you'll learn!"

"Alice," I started, glancing around warily. A crowd was starting to gather to stare at the midget who could 'see' things and the man that she was shouting at about it.

She glared at me for a second before turning on the small crowd.

"What?" she snapped at the nearest woman before grabbing my arm and steering me into a nearby music store. "You need to fix this," she said in an undertone once we were inside.

"What's the big deal? I barely know her, and I guarantee you that she doesn't really care for me, anyway," I said defensively.

"Listen to me for once," she hissed. "I'm tired of hinting around at it! Bella is going to be very important to you, and don't give me that look! You know it's true! She's already important to you! Now fix it!"

"How?" I asked.

"Figure it out!" she shouted, earning us a glare from the employee at the counter, before stomping out of the store. After a second the door opened and she came hurtling back in.

"You know I wouldn't care about this if it weren't important, right?" she demanded.

"Yeah, I know," I sighed.

"I just want you to be happy, you idiot," she continued. Now, that's love, right there; when you can be mad enough to spit and still care about your brother.

"I know," I repeated and she gave a short nod before spinning and exiting the store again, leaving me standing alone amongst the sheet music.

Not knowing how to fix this, and having already told Emmett that I'd be by later, I went anyway. I didn't think Bella would take kindly to me showing up at her doorstep, and I really didn't want to take the chance of Jessica really being her roommate and Bella not being home, leaving me alone with her.

In my defense, I tried to be good. I didn't sleep with her that night.

But the next night, the alcohol came out. A bottle of Grey Goose later, and here we were, with her still in my bed the next morning.

I wanted to tell Tanya to get out. Under normal circumstances, I would kick her out without hesitation. But I didn't really have the energy to deal with that right now. I had to go to class soon, so she'd have to leave then, anyway.

I jumped as my phone rang, diving for it without regards to the fact that I had almost knocked Tanya off of the bed in the process. Hopefully it would be Alice with an idea of how to fix this, because I was seriously drawing a blank on it.

But it was an unfamiliar number. I debated whether or not to answer it, finally deciding to on the off chance that it was Alice from a different phone.

"Hello?" I answered.

The voice that answered made my heart start racing.

---

**(BPOV)**

I'd been thinking about Edward for nearly two days now.

I couldn't seem to shake this inexplicable sense of guilt that followed me everywhere I went. He'd made such an effort to get me to go to lunch with him - even agreeing to all of my terms, and I had walked out on him without so much as saying goodbye. Sure, I'd been upset about the phone call he'd received, but it wasn't like he'd actually done anything. Why was I always jumping to conclusions? I mean, didn't I see him run out and look for me? Didn't that say something about his feelings?

I'd been completely rude to him.

And I should make amends.

Right?

Ahhh, who the fuck was I kidding? It was more than that. In spite of everything, I liked Edward. I mean, really liked Edward.

After he had convinced me that the flowers weren't a joke, I'd begun to look at him differently. Even though I'd snapped at him when he confessed that he felt he should "watch out" for me, I had to admit that my insides had simultaneously done a little dance of joy. To my knowledge, no one had ever felt that way about me before, and hearing Edward say it made me feel good all over.

Maybe it was time to start removing a few bricks from the wall I'd been building for years, just to see what was on the other side.

I wanted to talk to him to try and make things right, or if anything, to hear his velvet voice once more. But I didn't want to wait until 7am to do it. At 7am, we would be surrounded by eavesdropping classmates and sadistic professors who were apparently into public humiliation. I couldn't risk another episode. I needed to do this on "my" turf.

So here I was, sitting on my bed at 6:30am with my index finger tracing down the class roster Professor Emerson had given us last week. It stopped on _"Cullen, Edward - (206) 555-2282."_ A surge of adrenaline coursed through my veins - I knew that if I didn't call him now, I would never have the guts to do it. I figured he had to be awake - I mean, we had class in roughly 30 minutes.

I noticed that my fingers were trembling slightly as I punched the numbers into my cell phone.

Oh my God, it was ringing.

Suddenly, I panicked. I hadn't even thought through what I was going to say to him.

"Bad idea! Abort! Abort!" my brain screamed at me.

But it was too late.

"Hello?"

"Edward? Ummm, hi - it's me, Bella. Bella Swan?"

---

**(EPOV) **

"Oh, yeah, hey," I said after a moment. I didn't have trouble remembering who she was. I was shocked out of my mind for a second, that's all. "I wasn't expecting to hear from you."

"Yeah," she said quietly. "So, um - I just wanted to apologize for running out like that the other day. It wasn't really fair."

"Right…" I said slowly, my gaze flicking back go Tanya. It was totally fair, I guess. No need to let her know that, though.

"So I was thinking maybe I could make it up to you somehow?" she continued, almost hesitantly.

"What did you have in mind?" I asked, trying to sound casual. She wanted to make it up to me? Fucking awesome. Not that I could honestly say I really deserved it. But again, no need to let her know that.

"I don't really know," she said. "Lunch?"

"Nah," I said. "It was one of your conditions that I can't stalk you on lunch," I reminded her, smirking. Looks like her conditions could work in my favour. "Let's go somewhere today."

"We have class in like, twenty minutes," she pointed out.

"You really want to go and hear about the importance of composers like we don't already know?" I asked. "Come on, it's just a discussion day, anyway."

"I do have other classes."

"So do I," I said. "Skip them."

"Where do you want to go, anyway?" she asked. I thought about it for a second.

"Have you ever been to the Seattle Center?" I asked.

"No."

"They have an exhibit on music—" and science fiction, but let's not let the closet sci-fi geek out until she likes me enough to put up with that "—that seems like it would be interesting."

"Okay," she agreed, and I resisted the urge to do a victory fist-pump. This is Washington, after all, not the Jersey Shore. "So…" she trailed off.

"I'll pick you up in a half hour," I said.

"Alright. See you then," she said.

"Bye," I said before hitting the end button.

_Mother fucking YES._

I stared at my phone for a second before Tanya's voice broke into my thoughts.

"What's going on?" she asked. Fuck. Why is she still here? I mean, I know why she's here, but why didn't Alice warn me to get rid of her sooner?

"Nothing," I said, scrolling through my call log to find Alice's number. She answered on the first ring.

"Well hello, big brother," she greeted me smugly. Suspicions confirmed.

"You could've given me some warning!" I said as I stood up, searching for my underwear.

"You don't listen to me, anyway," she said in that same smug voice. I let out an irritated growl and hit the end button. Fucking Alice and her fucking revenge.

_Where is my underwear? This is ridiculous!_

After I had collected myself enough to remember that I was in my apartment, where there was plenty of clean underwear, I set to work on finding jeans. Apparently I need to do some laundry.

Once I had finally managed to get dressed, I rushed for the door, nearly forgetting about Tanya entirely in my haste. Damn. I turned to look at her, still in bed, staring at me like I had lost my mind.

"Uh…" I started unintelligibly. "You're welcome to stay for awhile. Jasper will show you where the breakfast stuff is—" please let Jasper be home "—and just give Rosalie a call when you want to go home."

That was the best I could come up with that quickly. Wow, she looked offended. Like, way more offended than was really necessary, in my opinion. Damn. Oh well. It's not like I was dying to see her again.

Without further adieu, I dashed from the apartment, stepping onto the elevator and pushing the down button before realizing that I hadn't showered. I took advantage of the empty elevator to do a pit-check. Yeah, no way I was getting away with that today. I cursed and waited for the doors to open, pressing the up button to go back to the apartment.

By the time I showered and redressed, I was only ten minutes late pulling up to Bella's apartment. Record time, for me.

And after I found parking, I was still only fifteen minutes late. Stupid city.

I knocked on the door and waited for a moment as footsteps approached. There was a pause in which the person was presumably checking the peephole and then the door swung open to reveal none other than Jessica Fucking Stanley.

Fuck. So she is Bella's roommate.

"Bella!" she shouted, not taking her over-lined eyes off of me. "He did show up, after all!"

I didn't like the way she said that. I was only fifteen minutes late, after all. And that was because I insisted on being clean. I thought about shoving her face into my pits so that she could smell the mountain-fresh soap scent, but thought better of it because hell, she'd probably like that, and I didn't want a face print of makeup on my shirt.

"Do you want to come in?" she asked, batting her mascara-caked eyelashes at me. Jesus Christ.

_If you're leaving, then sure._

"Yeah, thanks," I said, stepping carefully past her into the living room. She followed me in and sat on the couch.

"Have a seat," she offered. I made sure to pick the spot on the couch as far away from her as possible. It made no difference. She scooted her ass right on over until she was sitting practically on top of me. I wondered how hard I would have to hit my head against the coffee table to make myself black out, and if that would get her to leave me alone. Probably not. She'd just molest my unconscious form.

Please, God, let Bella be ready to go soon.

---

**(BPOV)**

Okay, I admit it: I was punishing him for being late. But it's not like he didn't deserve it. Where I come from, you call when you're going to be late.

A little time with Jessica wouldn't hurt him.

Much.

I took my time brushing my hair out until it shone, and then slid a thin headband into place. I double checked my outfit in the mirror: blue jeans and a dark blue, long sleeved shirt. That should be just fine for a trip to the Seattle Center. I'd never been there, but it actually sounded fun. Playing hooky for the day made me a little nervous, but I was excited to spend some time with Edward as well. Thank God I had the weekend to catch up on anything I missed.

I looked at my watch - ten minutes ought to be enough.

I walked out to the living room to see Edward squished against the side of the couch with Jessica sidled up next to him. If only I'd had my camera.

"Ready to go?" I asked him.

I have to stifle a laugh as he quickly scrambled off the sofa to stand next to me.

"Ready if you are." I could hear the relief in his voice and I had to smile. "I guess I'll see you later, Jess."

"Have fun. You too, Edward." She semi-smirked at him.

"We will," he replied dryly, placing his hand on the small of my back. I bit my lip knowing that Jessica was probably fuming inside.

"Shall we?"

"We shall," he replied, smoothly guiding me toward the door.

Once we were outside, he opened the passenger door of a shiny Volvo parked about a block or two away from my apartment.

"Nice car," I said appreciatively. It sure beat the hell out of my old truck.

My dad had bought my truck, affectionately nicknamed 'Rusty,' for me my junior year of high school. I loved Rusty - truly I did - but that didn't mean that I didn't envy something as beautiful as Edward's car.

"Thanks," he said, somewhat sheepishly. "It was a gift from my father when I graduated from high school."

"You must have been a good boy, then." I teased him while sliding onto the leather seat.

"Yeah, something like that," he said and then closed the door. He walked around and climbed into the driver's seat. "Have you had breakfast yet?"

At the mention of word 'breakfast,' my stomach let out a resounding growl. Shit. I'd been so nervous, I'd forgotten to eat.

"Umm, no - obviously," I giggled.

He turned and smiled warmly at me. "The museum doesn't open until 10:00, and I know a great place, if you're up for it."

"Sure." I smiled back.

15 minutes later, we were pulling into the parking lot of a small restaurant called "The Marmalade Cafe."

"It looks very....quaint," I said, reaching for the door handle.

"I'll get that for you," he said quickly, jumping out of the car and rushing over to my side. He opened my door and held out his hand to me - I was slightly taken aback at the gesture.

He must have misinterpreted my hesitation, because he immediately started apologizing.

"I'm sorry, is that one of your "terms?" Like, "don't open doors for me and stuff?"

I guffawed, but he looked absolutely serious.

"No, it's fine. Thank you." I tried to sound gracious as I placed my small hand in his and scooted out of the car. But on the inside, I was cringing - afraid that my little "terms" speech had now painted me as a feminist shrew. That wasn't what I had been trying to say at all. I mean, I wasn't just uncomfortable with him spending money on me - I was uncomfortable with anyone spending money on me. I didn't have a job, I was living off financial aid, and it made me feel bad when I couldn't reciprocate the same kind of generosity.

After I stood up, his fingers lingered on mine for a moment before letting go. I marvelled at how smooth they were, compared to my own. Years of violin playing had left me with permenant thick, hard callouses on my left hand, and I had always been grateful that I was from a society that shook hands with the right.

The restaurant was adorable on the inside - rustic wooden tables with bouquets of daisies on them and walls the color of orange dreamsicles.

The hostess showed us to a table and said that our waiter would be right with us. I breathed a mental sigh of relief. A waiter, not waitress, meant no skank to deal with today. I realized that Edward was thinking the exact same thing when he caught my eye and winked at me. I bit my lip and looked down at the menu in an effort to hide the smile slowly spreading across my face. I heard him chuckle softly as he picked up his own menu.

As promised, our waiter - a very nice man named Terrance - soon came over to take our order: chai tea french toast for me and a smoked salmon scramble for Edward.

"So...." he said.

"Buttons," I replied automatically.

"What?"

I laughed. "It's something my grandmother used to say whenever someone said 'so...' As in 'sew buttons?' Kinda like 'hey is for horses.'"

"I see. Well, speaking of grandmothers, tell me about your family. Do you have any brothers and sisters?"

I shook my head. "Nope. Just me. My parents got divorced when I was just a baby. I lived with my mom in Phoenix until I turned 17, then I lived with my dad in Forks, Washington, until I started college. I know my mom and my stepdad tried for awhile to have a baby together, but it never happened," I sighed. "Sometimes, I think it would have been nice to have a little brother or sister though."

"Eh, it's not all it's cracked up to be," he interjected.

"Oh yeah? What about you? What's your family like?"

"Just one sister - Alice, of course, she and I were both adopted when we were very young - and one brother - Emmett, who's married to your good friend Rosalie, remember?" He grinned at me, referring that "special day" when Alice had bailed me out of class.

I rolled my eyes at him. "What do your parents do?"

"My father is the Chief of Staff at a hospital here in Seattle, and my mother is an interior designer specializing in the restoration of older homes."

"That sounds interesting. I bet you have an amazing home if your mom's a designer."

"I guess so, but unfortunately, I don't live with my parents - I live in a crappy two bedroom with my best friend since 6th grade, Jasper. Who just happens to be dating my sister." He shuddered a little at that last part - so I deduced that he must not be entirely comfortable with that situation.

"I see what you mean about siblings not being all they're cracked up to be."

He flashed that crooked smile at me and felt myself blush instinctively. Dammit. How the hell did he do that?!

"Right," he agreed. "So what about your parents? What do they do for a living?"

"Well, my father is the Chief of Police in Forks, and my mom is a minor league groupie."

"A what?"

I had to laugh. "She follows my stepdad, Phil, around the country like a groupie. He's a minor league baseball player. Homebase is in Jacksonville, Florida."

"Talk about far away," he mused. "Do you miss her?"

Now that was an interesting question. "Sometimes, I guess - as much as you can miss an over-protective scatter-brain."

"Over-protective?"

Fuck. I should have just left it at "Sometimes" and kept my mouth shut. That's the problem with getting comfortable around someone, my inner v-chip goes haywire.

"Uhhhh, just - mothers, you know how they can be...." I trailed off, hoping he'd leave it alone.

But of course, he wouldn't.

"Not really," he said. I quirked an eyebrow at him questioningly. "Well, my mom's kind of a workaholic, and I'm the middle child," he continued. "We didn't have a family so much as a chain of command. She got Emmett through most of his teen years, and then she threw herself into her work and Emmett was in charge of looking after Alice and me. It's almost like she wasn't really there..." he trailed off, suddenly looking very uncomfortable.

Well, obviously "mothers" was a sensitive subject for the both of us. My eyes searched to meet his, to let him now that I could sympathize - but he just stared at his hands, which were anxiously folding and twisting his cloth napkin.

"So what did you mean by overprotective?" he said quickly, still not looking up.

"Oh," I said - a little taken aback for a moment. I had nearly forgotten what had led me to try and avoid this discussion. How could I put this so he would understand? "Well, I just meant...well, have you ever had a really clingy girlfriend?"

He swallowed hard and nodded hesitantly at me.

"It's kind of like that. She always wants to know where I am, who I'm with, what I'm doing, am I okay... Past the normal point of concerned parents. Add that to the fact that she's so scatter-brained that it's almost like I'm the parent most of the time, and it can get pretty frustrating. I mean, if she doesn't hear from me for a day or two, it's like she just assumes I'm laying dead in a ditch somewhere. It gets old pretty quickly."

"Well..." he said sheepishly, shifting in his seat.

I narrowed my eyes at him. I already knew where this was going - I could recognize it by the tone of his voice. But before I could say anything, he waved me off.

"Wait, don't get me wrong. I know you've never died, obviously - but you can't deny it's a legit fear when you're concerned. I mean, you didn't have a pulse for crying out loud."

"I was never in danger, but my mom doesn't seem to understand that" I said matter of factly. "The doctors have explained it to her over and over. But ever since it started, she's been like this."

"It?"

I sighed reluctantly. Did we really have to do this now? When things had been going pretty well so far? "I'm not really comfort - "

"Here you go!" A chipper voice cut in. "Chai tea french toast for you and a smoked salmon scramble for you, sir." Terrance smiled, placing our plates before us.

"Oh wow - this looks amazing!" I exclaimed, perhaps a little too loudly, but I was more than thankful for the interruption.

"It's one of our specialties," Terrance beamed proudly. "I order it at least once a week."

"That addicting, huh?" I laughed.

"You might need an intervention," he played along, completely unaware of Edward's exasperated gaze. "Now, is there anything else I can get you two?"

"No, we're fine." Edward said quickly, the annoyance in his voice clear as crystal.

Well, that was rude. I looked at him sharply, then gave Terrance an apologetic smile.

"Thanks, Terrance. I think we're okay."

"Well, enjoy your breakfast," he said before walking away.

"What was that all about?" I asked, a little tersely.

He didn't answer me at first. He just picked up his fork and started stabbing at his eggs. "I just don't appreciate interruptions, that's all," he finally grumbled.

"So we should send the food back, then?" I laughed, trying to make light the situation.

His lips curled into a tiny smile. "No. It's fine. I can see that neither one of us wants to ruin this...um, date," he cleared his throat suddenly, then continued. "by talking about our mothers. So let's just hold off for now and enjoy the food."

I breathed a sigh of relief. Maybe he was a little more perceptive than I had given him credit for. Althought I certainly would rather avoid having this conversation altogether, I knew that I would have to have it eventually.

But not today.

Not now.

I flashed him a big grin. "Sounds good to me. Let's dig in."

---

**AN**: Hope you loved it! If you did, return the love in a review?


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